


Never Over You

by loveinslowmotion



Category: One Direction (Band), Taylor Swift - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Haylor, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 07:02:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3886771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveinslowmotion/pseuds/loveinslowmotion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Under the amounting pressure of /he's not the right one for me/, Taylor cracks at quite possibly the worst moment possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Over You

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo this was an idea I saw on tumblr and I decided to write it. I don't actually really know much about Calvin so sorry in advance if he's way off in this.

“You killed it, babe,” Calvin complimented as Taylor descended the stairs from the stage. She gladly took the water bottle he extended to her, sliding under his arm with a wide grin. 

“That was unbelievable,” she sighed in wonder. “Absolutely unbelievable.”

Another night of the tour down, Taylor still could hardly believe it all. It was on a whole other level of fun, and she couldn’t explain how incredible it felt to see her fans’ reactions to all the months of hard work she’d put in. It had quickly become one of her most favourite things she’d ever done, and to know that there were countless amounts of people who felt the same meant the world to her. She was at the top of her game, hoping that her course was one that only continued to go up. She kept finding herself wondering if, really, anything could beat this. 

There was one thing, though, that Taylor refused to really think about, let alone talk about. It was a lot easier to control the latter. 

When your feelings for someone never really fade, it’s difficult. It’s always so damn difficult and having to step on stage night after night and perform something about the person in question is absolutely no help. It was always a whole lot easier when she moved on, and as much as she liked to tell herself she had, she knew in her heart that that was a lie. Her heart didn’t belong to the man she was going home with tonight. 

After finishing up with her fans, the pair got a car back to Taylor’s place, sitting hand in hand in the back seat. She was quieter than usual, but he didn’t seem to notice. He must’ve assumed she was getting tired, but he should’ve known the post-concert buzz lasted hours. No way could she fall straight into bed and get to sleep as soon as they made their way through the door. 

They did fall straight into bed, though. Calvin whisked her off to her room, pulling her into kisses she returned softly. They helped each other out of their clothes, hands roaming over bare skin as she sat on his lap. He’d always made her feel good — she didn’t doubt that. It was hard not to feel special with this undeniably attractive man who saved his lips just for her, who was now placing kisses all over her chest and telling her how sexy her confidence was. A little ironic, considering her confidence had faltered at some point in the night and singing “ _say you’ll remember me_ ” felt like more of a desperate request than it ever had. 

She shouldn’t have even been thinking of him on stage, especially not now when Calvin was pushing her onto her back and slipping his tongue into her mouth. She shouldn’t have moaned at the flashback she got of him with his head between her legs and his thumb rubbing over her nipple when Calvin fondled her breast. God, she really shouldn’t have longed for the nights they would play pretend and wake up sore in the best way when Calvin called her “baby girl.” If Calvin knew what was running through her mind, he sure would not be sliding into her and kissing her like he was. 

Taylor knew it was horrible to make comparisons in this situation, but she couldn’t help the shots her brain was firing tonight. Even if, admittedly, they had crossed her mind at random times before, there was something way worse about thinking, “ _Harry took half as long to find his rhythm and it was always fucking better than this_ ,” while she actually had Calvin inside her. 

It’s not like Calvin was shit in bed, either. He was pretty damn hot, leaving hidden love bites on her skin and making her a moaning mess when he really got going. They’d had a lot of fun, but she couldn’t help but remember all the fun she’d had with Harry. She’d clicked with him immediately, and the memories she had of tugging Harry’s hair and arching her back as she was overcome with ecstasy were too much to handle sometimes. She wasn’t going to confess to how many times she’d used one of those memories to get herself off with her own two fingers since they’d broken up. (Hint: a lot)

Taylor was ashamed of herself, really. Here she was with someone who genuinely cared about her, but all she could think of was how much more she’d enjoyed being with her ex. (“ _Harry would’ve found the damn spot by now, for fucks sake_.”) That wasn’t how it was meant to be. She didn’t want to be that girl. 

In all fairness, Harry was rather a massive tease in the lingering feelings department. He didn’t seem to give a single fuck about whether or not she knew he was still wildly attracted to her. He’d toned it down since she’d started seeing Calvin, but he would throw in a sneaky comment every now and then. Just last week he’d texted her a picture of him on his knees with his tongue sticking out, captioned, “I’d get down on my knees for you babe xxx”. Perhaps what was even better was the video Niall had sent her half an hour later, which was of a mess of a conversation with the most notable line: “If Taylor knew how many times she’s made me come over that fucking Victoria’s Secret video, she would have to take me back." He was rather drunk at the time, but that was beside the point. He wouldn’t have said those things if they weren’t true sober. 

So you could hardly blame Taylor for having him stuck in her brain, or for fixing on a push up bra ("I want to wake up every morning to those gorgeous tits.”) and pretending they were his fingers on her as she tortured herself with the idea of Harry jerking off over the thought of her. 

You couldn’t blame her unless you were Calvin, and oh, was he about to have a reason to blame her. 

Taylor wasn’t really into the intimacy, and it took Calvin longer than she appreciated to realise that. (“ _God, he really doesn’t_ get _me_.”) He slowed his thrusts to a stop, looking at her with concern as he asked, “What’s wrong, baby?”

She licked her lips slowly, debating how to tell him she had been spending far too long tearing apart his every move in favour of the green eyed boy she’d left years ago. All she could manage was, “I can’t do this; I’m sorry,” before pushing him off and fleeing from the bed, grabbing her phone from the dresser and locking herself in the en suite. By the time he’d made his way to the door, she had already dialled the number she’d committed to memory. 

“Taylor, baby, what’s wrong?” Calvin called, receiving a silence in return. It wasn’t too late to end the call, but she couldn’t bring herself to press that red button. 

When he spoke her name again, Taylor took the few steps over to the opposite side of the room, praying for more distance. Her heart pounded with every ring her phone gave, shattering when it eventually went to voicemail. No, no, _no_.

Her message was a few shaky breaths as she willed herself not to burst into tears, though that didn’t last long when she choked out a whispered, “I miss you.” She hung up almost immediately as warm drops started rolling down her cheeks, sliding her back down the wall and letting her phone crash on the tiles. This was the opposite of how she wanted to spend her night. 

“Taylor,” Calvin repeated. “Come out and talk to me.”

“I think you should go,” she mumbled first, tears falling faster as she had to repeat herself so he could hear. It was cold in the bathroom, her bare skin prickling with goose bumps and longing for a comforting embrace. She could get it if she gave in, but she couldn’t keep doing that to him or herself. 

“Taylor, please.”

“Please just go.”

“Taylor—”

“ _Please_ ,” she pleaded, head tilting back to hit the wall. “I need to be by myself." 

By herself but not completely alone; nice one leaving that out, Swift. 

“Taylor, I don’t want to leave knowing you’re not okay.”

As endearing as his persistence was, she wished he didn’t care so much. She wished he wasn’t attached enough to not be able to walk away easily, because she knew the inevitable was coming. She was going to hurt him and they would both end up alone, wondering what they’d done wrong and why they couldn’t be enough. 

She really did like him. He just wasn’t her number one, through no fault of his own. 

Her phone started buzzing on the floor, and with one last desperate “please” there was a deep sigh from the other side of the door, followed by the shuffle of fabric as Calvin made his way back into his clothes. Taylor flipped her phone over to look at the screen, confronted by one of her favourite pictures she ever took of Harry. It was from back when they were dating — she’d taken a shot of him laughing without him even knowing, and when she showed him later he had kissed her and asked her how everything she did was beautiful. She’d made a joke about doing him and he’d laughed again, teasing that he was the most beautiful of all. The photo reminded her of showering him in kisses and making him smile; oh what she would give to have that back again. 

Taylor hesitated over the accept button, suddenly scared of Calvin overhearing. But she couldn’t risk Harry not answering if she tried calling him again later. She couldn’t stand having the both of them gone. 

Harry’s voice was full of worry when she held her phone to her ear. “What’s going on, love?”

“I…” Taylor eyed the door nervously. She heard footsteps, and she held her breath as best as she could to try to listen to them fade further away. She’d either missed it or it hadn’t happened. “I’m…”

“Taylor? Taylor, love, you there?”

Harry’s voice was still coming through the speaker when she crawled across the tiles and set her phone on the top of the counter. Sitting on her knees and wiping her eyes, Taylor opened the cupboards as quietly as she could, looking for nothing specific. She poked around through moisturizers and bath salts and almost empty foundations until she found an old prescription bottle from one time she’d fallen ill. Perfect. 

She unscrewed the lid almost all the way when she stood up. She debated her next move for a brief moment before just going for it. Taylor let the bottle fall from her grasp, watching as it hit the floor with an echoing crash. 

“Taylor?”

_Knew it._

“Taylor, what was that?” Calvin spoke again through the door. 

“Can’t you just trust me?!” she said louder than she’d expected. 

“What’s going on in there?" 

"Nothing. Please just go. I’ll call you tomorrow." 

"Tay—”

“I swear to god Calvin, if you don’t leave—”

“Fine. Call me when you’ve figured out where the hell your head’s at.”

With the sound of footsteps and the front door crashing shut after that last remark, Taylor knew she’d pissed him off. Surprising it had taken so long, considering she’d abandoned him in the middle of sex. She couldn’t help but wonder what Harry would’ve done if it were him instead. She still wasn’t playing fair. 

When she picked up her phone again and let Harry know she was listening, she could hear the protective panic in his voice as he asked, “What did he do to you?”

“Nothing. He didn’t do anything, I’m just…” She sighed, moving back to sit in a ball against the wall. “I’m a shit person.”

“Don’t ever say that again,” he told her firmly. “Ever.”

“I feel like one.”

“What’s going on, love?”

Taylor closed her eyes, not knowing where to begin. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I feel fine but I’m just…not.”

“’s valid,” he assured her. “What’s making you feel not okay?”

She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from saying “you.” It wasn’t even really his fault; he wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary to get himself stuck in her brain. She was doing that all by herself. 

“You know how I didn’t want to get back into anything with someone because I was happy by myself?”

“Are you not happy with Calvin?”

“I am, but—”

“There shouldn’t be a “but”, Taylor,” Harry reminded her. “You deserve happiness without any complications.”

So did he, but it didn’t mean they were going to get it. 

“You know he has to take allergy medicine whenever he comes over? He can’t deal with the cats otherwise.”

“And that makes you sad?”

“No,” she lied. “But what if we ended up, y'know, serious? I couldn’t ask him to take allergy medicine every day just because I like cats and his body doesn’t.”

“If he really cared about you, he would do it. If I was allergic to cats, I would down some medicine every day so I could join you when you were playing with them. Fuck, I’d even let them fall asleep all over me and accept the sneezing in the morning. No big deal.”

Taylor could picture it, and god she wanted it. She wanted Harry to be able to stay the night and wake up to Olivia batting him on the face because she wanted him to wake up and pay attention to her. He hadn’t even gotten to meet her in person yet, and she knew they would adore each other. He’d give her the cuddles she wanted and buy her toys to play with. Taylor knew that was what she wanted, but it seemed so out of reach. 

“He came to the show tonight and he didn’t even try for a fuck in the dressing room.”

“What kind of a man is he?”

“He also doesn’t make that good of a cup of tea.”

“Why does it sound like you’re fishing for excuses?”

“Because I am.”

She’d spent weeks coming up with any excuse she could find to justify her distraction in the form of Harry. Nothing substantial ever came to mind; Calvin was genuinely a good guy. That’s what made all of this so much harder.

“Love, this doesn’t sound like you,” he said, and she could tell he was confused. She knew he knew she was leaving something out. 

“I’m sorry.”

“’s fine. Take your time. We’ve got all night.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to save it for the morning? You sound tired.”

“I was having a bit of a nap when you called. I’m not hanging up until you’re feeling better.”

Taylor really did love him, whether she let herself realise that or not. 

“I just needed to hear your voice,” she admitted, voice coming out smaller than she expected. She suddenly felt more vulnerable, shifting uncomfortably on the cold tiles. In all honesty she needed him right there beside him, but the best she could do was balance her phone between her head and her shoulder as she wrapped herself up in a towel. A layer of protection for what she was about to tell him. 

“I’m not going anywhere, love,” Harry reassured her. 

Then it all came tumbling out. 

“I just feel like shit, y'know? I have this— I have this really good guy who actually likes me and wants to be with me even though everything’s so _complicated_ but I’m not even focused on him. He’s always so nice to me and he tries but I keep trying to find reasons not to want him because I can’t help but think this isn’t what I want. _He_ isn’t what I want and I feel terrible for making him think that everything’s fine. But now he knows it’s not— god, I’ve really fucked up and I’m gonna end up alone. Harry, I can’t do this, I can’t have everyone call me that girl who only dates guys for songs again just because I made a mistake. I— I—”

At some point she had started crying again, hot tears running down her cheeks as Harry gave soothing “shhh” sounds and told her it was okay when she paused for breath. 

“I can’t even tell him _why_. I can’t tell him I can’t stop thinking about you; I can’t do that to him. I can’t stop thinking about you and— and do you know how bad it is? No matter how good he is to me I can’t— oh god I can’t stop thinking of how much I want all this with _you_. You always got me and you’re like my best friend and y'know they say you should be with your best friend but I don’t know what I’d do if we tried again and it didn’t work out and we weren’t friends anymore. I can’t— I can’t help but think that no matter what I’m going to lose you in the end. You’re gonna leave me because we can’t make things work or because I’ve freaked you out now and I just—”

“Taylor,” Harry interrupted, thankfully. “Taylor, love, take a deep breath.”

She did as she was told, furiously wiping her face as she took a shaky few breaths. “I miss you so much,” she choked out, hating herself for how desperate she sounded. She wasn’t that confident sexy woman they all had her pinned for; she felt like a needy little girl begging for him to love her even if she was shattered on the bathroom floor, naked and tear stained and vulnerable. 

Her sob when Harry said, “I miss you too,” was more out of relief, though her tears continued to fall as if he’d said otherwise. He let her cry it out, making comforting sounds as she finally let herself _feel._ All this time spent holding it all in, it hurt — oh god it _hurt_ but at the same time it was a weight off her shoulders. The mess in her mind was slowly unravelling with every drop that fell down her cheek, until the string was a neat pile and all that was left were some uneven breaths and small sniffles. 

She didn’t know what to say when she calmed, didn’t know how to apologise for unloading all of that on him. Instead she listened to the kettle boiling on his end, almost giving a tiny laugh once she’d heard him find a mug and pour water inside. “You’re making tea?”

“Wish I could be making you one, too,” he said, fondness in his voice. She hadn’t freaked him out at all. No, his kindness almost brought her to tears again when he added, “I’m _this_ close to finding a flight to come make you feel better in person.”

“I’d love that,” she sighed. She knew it couldn’t happen. 

“You’re in London, yeah?”

“Not for long.”

“Listen, love,” Harry started, the sound of his spoon hitting the porcelain fading out and replaced by footsteps falling into the comfort of a couch. “Get yourself a tissue, give your nose a good blow, make yourself a cup of tea, change into that shirt of mine you stole, and I’ll stick around until you fall asleep.”

With that, Taylor picked herself up off the floor, cringing when she saw her pale reflection in the mirror. She followed his first two steps obediently, adding in a splash of water to her face and a cleansing wipe to wash off her smudged make up. When it came to the next, she hesitated at the door. “Can I get changed first?”

“What?" 

“Before the tea. Can I get changed first?”

Harry laughed. “You don’t have to do it in order, Tay.”

“I’m not wearing anything.”

She could only imagine the look on his face at that. 

“What exactly went down tonight?”

“We were kind of… I kind of left him in the middle of… sex.”

His smirk was clear in his voice as she ditched the towel and released herself from the bathroom. “I am _honoured_ to have been your cockblock,” he said cheekily. “Any chance you need finishing off?”

“Maybe another day,” she smiled a little, retrieving her underwear from the floor and wriggling back into them. Taylor started searching through her drawer for the shirt, finding it tucked away at the back. She slipped it on and sighed at the comfort of the soft fabric on her skin. Second best to having his arms around her. 

It was a flannel button up, way too big on Taylor. She’d taken it by mistake one morning, accidentally bundling it up with her coat in a rush and deciding to never return it when she’d realised later. As long as it had been since he last wore it, she thought she could faintly smell his familiar scent worn into it. She liked to have something of his to hold on to. The paper plane necklace he’d given her was stored away in a jewellery box in her apartment in New York and she had a Polaroid of him in her bedside drawer in LA — memories scattered all over the place for whenever she needed them. 

Heading into the kitchen, Taylor found Olivia stalking along the counter, and she gave her a surprise pat on the head as she still held her phone to her ear. 

“Olivia says hi,” she told Harry as she put the kettle on. 

“Tell her she’s sweet.”

“I think she already knows.”

The little cat approached the mug she’d taken out curiously, looking around until Taylor scooped her up so she wouldn’t get in the way when she got to pouring the boiling water. She bounced her like a child as she fixed herself a cup of tea, carefully carrying them both over to the lounge with her phone between her head and shoulder once more. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, settling on the couch with her feet tucked under her and Olivia curling up on top of her. 

“Me? ’m laying down and listening to what you’re doing.”

“You can go if you want. I’m feeling better now.”

“Are you about to fall asleep?”

“No.”

“Then I’m not leaving.”

They stayed like that for a while, drinking tea on their respective sides of the world and talking about nothing particularly important, falling in and out of comfortable silences. It was reassuring to know that the other was there, through a sniff or a sigh or an “Oh my god Olivia, _no_.” (Claws digging through your top and into your chest when you weren’t wearing a bra, Taylor discovered, was awfully painful.)

When she started yawning Harry coaxed her into bed, listening as Taylor got herself ready and cuddled up under the covers. He’d told her to find a pillow to hug, which she did admittedly a little apprehensively until he assured her that he was doing the same. That made her feel a bit better. 

“What are you thinking about?” she asked after a while of silence, quieter now that all the lights were off for good tonight. 

“You,” he answered immediately, smile in his voice. “I’m plotting how to sweep you off your feet and steal you away all for myself.”

“No kidnapping, please.”

“Damn, there goes plan number one.”

She blessed him when he sneezed, hearing a rustle of blankets as he shifted his position. 

“I do want to come visit you, love,” he told her honestly. “‘specially after tonight. We’ll figure something out in the morning?”

“If you haven’t already hopped on a plane by then,” she teased, glad to hear him laugh. “We’ll see what we can do.”

They fell into another silence, and Taylor thought Harry might’ve fallen asleep until he started to sing softly through the phone. 

“ _Rushing in a small town, I forgot to call you. I’m running low on know how, with this beat I made for two..._ ”

Heart warming, Taylor drifted off into the most comforting sleep she’d had in a long time. 

Things were by no means any less complicated, but maybe, just maybe, they’d end up okay. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading guys! :)


End file.
